Out of Gas
by suncityblues
Summary: Even though Haine was anything but easy and at times -well most of the time- completely insane, he sort of liked it that way. Haine/Badou.


**Title:** Out of Gas  
**Characters: **Haine & Badou  
**Rating:** work safe  
**Summary:** Even though Haine was anything but easy and at times (most of the time) completely insane, he sort of liked it that way.

&&Just so you know this story takes place a ways down the line, like possibly after the series ends. And yeah they're kind of OOC but I tried to make it seem like they were a bit older... I probably failed but it was fun to do, anyway.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

*"*

Badou's sitting in some D-grade shit hole bar when he hears them. These girls with oversized tits and fluffed hair, the kind of girls who wear sweaters to afford them the illusion of modesty that everyone knows they lack. They're grouped around a table, sipping cheap watery beer with a low calorie content and giggling.

They're saying:did you hear the latest about that white-hair guy?  
The one with the chain on his gun.  
The one they say is invincible.  
The one that can be shot and just keep going.  
The cute one.

He chokes on his scotch at that last bit. Isn't sure whether to laugh or be afraid for the state of humanity, but the thing he does know is that his welcome is officially over-stayed.

But that's not a bad thing; the music was shitty there anyway.

And, truth be told, he would rather be sitting in the Buon Viagglo or even Bishop's church than mingling with the rest of normal society. He wondered when it happened that he no longer counted himself amongst them. Probably never, but there was a time, maybe not that long ago, where those girls would have seemed like fun. Easy pray, sure, but a good time nonetheless. At least they were honest. A hip movement here, a hand brushing there, maybe a grope under the table and it was on.

Whatever the normal mating ritual was with those girls, it certainly wasn't this half-assed mixed signal bullshit he's found himself wading in now. And the thing that really pissed Badou off was that he almost preferred it that way.

Even though Haine was anything but easy and at times (most of the time) completely insane, he liked it that way.

And that kind of sucked.

*"*

It was too late to go anywhere that wasn't a bar or one of those all-night porno theaters and too early to give up and go home. Neither of the options particularly appealed to him at the moment, though, so Badou resigned himself to walking around for a bit, smoking about half a pack of cigarettes and making strained conversation with the bums and street kids, before slinking back to his place.

Maybe he was just getting older but he was tired.

It was barely two in the morning and he could not remember being more exhausted in his life. It wasn't the kind of exhaustion that happens after the adrenaline winds down or the kind felt after sex, but this was the sort that wraps itself around the bones and around the heart and whispers things like: why bother? into the open air.

*"*

His apartment is just as shitty as it was when he left, which is, in it's own little way, a nice thing. At least he wasn't robbed, he could tell himself if things got really bad. At least his home didn't burn down. There was always that.

The only thing that's different is the Haine-shaped shadow perched on a painfully under-stuffed chair by the window. He's just sitting there, watching the traffic or maybe the crazy exhibitionist who lives about three floors down in the building across the street. Haine makes no move to imply he knows Badou is there but he doesn't have to.

Badou clears his throat, somewhere between annoyance and amusement. Says "you could have at least turned on a light, asshole."

Haine still doesn't react but he makes a kind of snorting sound, like a truncated laugh. He doesn't reply to what Badou says but just offerers "I got bored" as a way of explanation. There's obviously more to it, like how Haine even got inside, for instance, or what was wrong with Haine's place, and Badou is curious to know these things, but Haine is Haine and that means he is infinitely confusing and oddly repressed so Badou saves himself a headache and goes to turn on a light.

Asks Haine if he wants a drink. Isn't shocked when he only gets a glare in response.

*"*

Twenty minutes later they're shooting the shit on the floor of Badou's kitchen. Haine's loosened up a bit now, he always needs some warming-up even on the best of days and the booze Badou more or less bothered him into drinking helped.

But Haine is smiling a bit now, despite himself, and so Badou doesn't regret any of it.

They're talking about stupid stuff, things that are not work, which isn't a first but it's rare enough to be considered special, even if only a little bit.

The radio is playing commercials in the background for fast food chains, car insurance, junk no one cares about and probably don't need. Haine makes a face and throws out some half-bitchy-half-clever comment about one of the car ads and Badou suddenly remembers why they're friends. Why he likes being the eye-patch to white-hair.

And maybe he'll never get what he really wants. Maybe he'll never get to run his hands through that mess of white hair or touch Haine the way he does in those embarrassing dreams, where he just holds the other man in his arms and there is no pain and no long-gone expression and it's just Haine there. The Haine he knows, not the other one, the angrier one. But at least they are friends.

Together. Two assholes in a city full of them.

At least no one broke in; at least nothing burned down.

And really what more could he ask for?

He didn't do shit to deserve what he has, least of all what he wants so maybe this is all for the best.

Haine could have his pick of Nil or Naoto, if he could get over his gynophobia, and Badou always had his bimbos and maybe even Mimi, if she'd let him.

The idea of Mimi in a wedding dress makes him laugh though, and that earns a weird look from Haine, who had been watching a moth flit around the ceiling light previously.

"Just thinking about weddings" Badou says, partially because it's true but mainly because any real explanation is too much work, though Haine throws a cog into that when he offhandedly states that Badou isn't the marrying type. That sort of stops things.

Badou sighs but it's more forceful, like blowing air out as opposed to releasing it. Leans back against the cupboard and looks at his coffee-stain ceiling.

"You're probably right" he tells the stains.

"You can't possibly think this is news?" Haine asks, still disinterested, if not more than he was before.

Badou laughs again, and it makes a gurgling sound in the back of his throat.

*"*

It is officially kind of late where there the option between going to bed and just staying up are equally unappealing.

They've moved from the kitchen to the living room long ago, now watching bizarre infomercials through the static and picking at some half-rancid left-over takeout.

Badou is drifting in and out of consciousness when he feels Haine's hand remove the dying cigarette from his lips. He can't decide if he's more irrationally pissed off or cheered up by the action.

When Haine's lips take the place of that cigarette things shift.

*"*

There are approximately nine-million things Badou could say at that very moment, but all that comes out is a noise that sounds like guuuuh. It's too dark in the room so he can't see Haine's eyes but Badou is pretty sure they're not as crazy far-away as they can be--usually are-- when something like this happens. The other tell is the fact that he's not bleeding and has yet to be thrown into a coffee table or wall or floor.

Haine notices Badou was awake and shifts uncomfortably in position.

"I was curious" he says matter-of-fact, but Badou sees though it. They're both sitting up straight now. Not sure what to say or what to do or even what to be. Friendly? Freaked-out? Uptight?

In the end Badou just does what comes naturally which is cheesy, he knows, and he probably got it from some horrible romance movie Kiri and Mimi "made" him watch, but he puts his hand on the side of Haine's face. Pulls him close. Notes that Haine lets this happen, seems confused and hesitant but there is trust somewhere in there too. Takes comfort in that.

He's exhausted and excited all at once.

Their foreheads touch briefly and then they are kissing.

*"*

* * *

Ahhh it's been ages since I've done anything for this fandom. How's it going loves?

For me, I hope to be able to write many more fanfics this summer...

By the way, the title is from the Modest Mouse song, if that means anything to you.


End file.
